


Cakes and Confessions

by aprito



Category: Naruto
Genre: College AU, F/M, an xmas thingy, i love modern aus bc cringy social media references. im here for them., my horrendous attempt at fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprito/pseuds/aprito
Summary: The Awful Duo takes a stroll through empty Tokyo parks on Christmas Eve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyyy lmao better late than never || This is a collab with the amazingly talented Yakumo710 on Twitter and Pixiv! You can check out their drawing here. http://aprito.tumblr.com/post/155389038118/sasosaku-xmas-collab

“Wait, keep the door open!” Sakura shouts from the other side of the subway entrance towards an elderly man planning to enter the transport, dragging a very,  _ very  _ out-of-breath Sasori behind her. She enters into a sprint, and successfully manages to close in on the door before it could close in on them _.  _

Sakura quickly thanks the man before sitting down in the relatively empty wagon, and Sasori plops into the seat beside her, struggling to breathe properly through the stitches he must undoubtedly be suffering through right now. Looking around, Sasori concludes that no one of knowledge was around to see him in - what he loved to say - this  _ despicable state _ , and he lays his head on her shoulder to continue his recovery from near death.

“We wouldn’t have to run if you had told me earlier you wanted to go to the park, y’kno.” Sakura crosses one of her legs over the other, taking out her smartphone in a course of habit.   The startup sound is loud, and she briefly flinches at the echo in the wagon.  _ Damn, forgot the headphones, again.  _ “It’s on the other side of the bridge, after all.” 

Sasori doesn’t reply through his irregular breathing -- but he probably would if he could. 

Sakura was feeling less exhausted than she  _ should,  _ considering they’ve been walking around the city for hours now, stuffed to the brim with dinner and the cakes after, and she hasn’t visited the gym in a good while this season. 

Sasori, well--

Let’s just say that Sasori wasn’t enthusiastic about any sport clubs at their University.

“I mean,” Sakura punches the password combination in with one hand while Sasori worms his hand around her other, his eyes glued to a poster about a famous drama stuck to the wall across from the duo. “I wouldn’t have guessed you to be so spontaneous twice in the span of-” A brief calculation of the time between the end of November and today. ”Three weeks.” 

In fact, Sasori was the exact opposite of _ spontaneous _ , planning all of his projects and events so thoroughly in advance it even kind of helped Sakura improve on her procrastination habits; not that she was all that bad on waiting for deadlines, but she snuck in breaks more often than she likes to admit here and there. Needless to say, she was surprised when he brought up the idea of a date around Christmas, right after she informed him of such event.

The only sound cutting through the quiet was the intercom, informing them that they’re five stops away from their destination, and Sakura opts for silence for the rest of the ride. It wasn’t that she particularly enjoyed the quiet  - especially when she was around friends; her need to fill empty spaces with new bits of conversation was an equally stubborn habit of hers -, but the streets of Tokyo just loved to blast whatever fits the mood in this season as loudly as they can over speakers -- and on a long term, sometimes a free day at home alone was a needed luxury. The subway in comparison is almost like a liminal space, save for the occasional robotic announcements and opening of doors.  

Sasori doesn’t seem to mind either -- but that was expected of his person, anyways. 

He nudges her shoulder when their respective stop is announced, and the station is completely devoid of any living souls when they exit the Subway, no doubt that everyone was to be found on the other side of the bridge. Sakura takes the time to shoot a picture of the ghost scenery, and Sasori scoffs. 

“Instagram?” 

“Duh.” 

The park isn’t any better in that regards, but the few streetlights and beautiful scenery of the city across from the river they were near at make up for it.

“Thank you for the dinner, by the way. That was really sweet of you.” Sakura says, scrolling through her social media feed not touched in approximately two days. Pictures of her friends amongst cakes and pets, some choosing to stay inside while others were spending time with their significant others. “Will you let me brag?” 

“I don’t even look as presentable as you do in this state.” Sasori huffs beside her, puffs of air disappearing into the dark night, his face reddening from the biting frost. He’s always been more prone to colder temperatures than her, which was no surprise when you knew the south was currently sporting 20°C and above in December. “So, no.”

“Aw, you think I look good.” Sakura doesn’t look up from her phone, but she can clearly imagine the frown adorning her boyfriend’s face.

“Quiet.” His gloved hand around her tightens, and she smiles. Her humor is short lived, however, when Sasori grabs her pink beanie in a swift moment of distraction. 

“Hey-” she cuts in, being surprised at all, but her complaint is muted when she sees how utterly  _ ridiculous _ it looks poorly adjusted on his head, seeing as he was only using one hand to put it on.  She huffs, putting her phone away to help him put the beanie on, properly. They’re nearly the same height to begin with, so it poses less of a problem. 

Sasori’s warm breath fans against her face, and she’s aware that protesting his theft is futile.  “Pink really suits you. You’re cute.”

“I’m cold.” Sasori corrects when she pats her hand on his head, beanie successfully covering those red ears of his. She can make out vague mutterings of ‘didn’t bring mine’ when they close their hands back together, and she rolls her eyes at his antics.

“You mean you keep forgetting to bring the ones you stole from me.” 

“That is such a harsh wording.”  His lips twitch into what almost passes for a smile. “I borrowed them because pink looks good on me, obviously. I fail to understand your lack of empathy in that situation.” 

“Uh- _ huh _ .” Her tone is laced with sarcasm, but his silly reply makes her smile all the same. “I can’t believe you’re already graduating in a few months with that attitude.”

“And I-” He nods towards a path that lead a bit astray from the riverside, and they continue their walk into that direction. “Cannot fathom how you still have two years ahead of you.” 

Far more if she decided to specialise further, but for now becoming a surgeon was a pretty good plan to accomplish within six years. She squeezes his hand, and he turns his head to look at her.

“Well, if you hadn’t quit medical school.” _ And didn’t need the money to from tutoring freshmen like me _ “We probably wouldn’t have met in the first place.” 

Sasori hums, but his expression doesn’t seem all that regretful. “It just wasn’t the thing for me.”

“I still remember the campus headline about the star student who poisoned cadavers and openly shit-talked my professor in front of everyone  _ just _ to get kicked off the program. I still wonder who that was?”

Knowing Sasori for a good while now, the culprit didn’t seem to be that far off the mark. She laughs as he shoves her half-heartedly to the side, him being banned from  _ her _ campus surely a fine reminder of his stint. That didn’t stop him from picking her up once in a while, of course.

“I have to admit, if my mother ever found out I quit medical school for art, she’d surely kick me out of the house. Remember how horrified she was when you admitted it to her?” 

“She called me a low life and a freeloader.” His face turns grim at the memory, and she can’t blame him for it, the utter hostility her mother radiated at the dinner table a sight in itself. 

“Mom barely missed you with the butter knife, too.”

Sasori shrugs, and Sakura wishes the memory of that humiliating evening would eventually escape her mind as quickly as possible.  _ But hey, at least Dad likes him and his tragically bad puns.  _

They come to stop before a bench that seemed to not have been used at all, today, and Sasori uses his foot to kick the powdery snow off the surface. It remains as quiet as when they entered the park, streetlamps being the only source of light, and the absence of any curious glances feels vaguely foreign to her. 

“To be fair” Sasori begins, their hands still clasped together, their bodies squished close for a tiny bit of shared warmth. “I didn’t expect us to work out either, at the beginning.” 

His comment completely throws her out of the loop, and she’s ready to question his line of logic, when he cuts into her own thought before it can escape her mouth. “I’m not ungrateful, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“I don’t think we turned out to be that different from each other, if that’s what you assumed.” She replies, her eyes focused on a streetlamp in front of her instead of the man beside her, but she can see the brief confusion crossing his face, out of the corner of her eye. “I mean, you rubbed off on me a lot, too. Take the sarcasm, for example.” 

Sasori snorts. “Bad example.” 

“You’re right, we’re also both prone to get cold feet whenever I suggest love hotels.” 

“That is even worse.”

“You’re right, how about that one time Deidara nearly walked in on us and we-”

“How did I survive this for four years, again?”

She moves to tap his nose, and he sticks out the tip of his tongue in response. “You deserve four medals of honor, soldier.” 

“I deserve a lifetime supply of medals.” He mimics her movements, but opts to pinch her cheek instead, and when he draws his hand back, there’s small chunks of highlighter on his dark gloves. _ So much for that wonder setting spray. _

The past few months flash before her, and as if on cue, she feels oddly melancholic.

“It’s been nearly four years already, huh.” She rests her head on his shoulder, knowing that the mere  _ thought _ of it shouldn’t be making her depressed, but here it is, crawling it’s way into her mind on restless nights. “I can’t believe you’re going to New York, after this. I always wanted to go there.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to see it, someday.” Sasori is tracing her gloved knuckles with her fingers, but he doesn’t look at her. 

She would love to punch herself for her moods, sometimes.

“Promise me you’ll call me at least once a day.” A beat. “Facetime. On Skype.” 

“Is American Internet even good enough to sustain the distance?” Sasori’s tone is light, and she’s tempted to box him just for that horrible implication. 

She’s glad that he isn’t able to see her from this angle, but she can feel the familiar sting of tears swelling her eyes.  _ Shit. _

“I’ll miss you.” 

“Sakura, are you crying?” He’s probably heard the irregularity in her voice, damn it.

“I’m just” She separates their hands to wipe her eyes before they can expose her any further. “I’m just really happy for you, that’s all.” 

“Ah, about that, actually.” Sasori’s blank expression is mostly in place, of course, but he avoids her gaze, and she’s rarely seen him nervous around her. “I contacted my manager the other day, and called the deal off.” 

Sakura’s eyes widen, and she’s utterly dumbfounded at the statement.

...

 

“What?!” She has to get up just to process her thoughts, because she can’t believe what she just heard. “Why?!”

Sasori looks equally caught off by her reaction, and he buries his hand in the pockets of his outer coat, his body leaning against the bench, relaxed. “I didn’t want to do it.” 

It’s not sadness that’s ruling the forefront of her mind right now, but indignation.

“What are you, 12?!” She says, her nails digging into her palms, her loud voice cutting sharp through the quiet, empty environment. “You can’t just call off your future!”

“The decisions mine to make, Sakura.” A beat. “I’m an adult as much as you are.”  

She’s not angry at his attitude --  _ tries not to be _ \-- but it’s hard when Sasori looks so completely detached from it. He grabs her wrist, suddenly, and she’s back on the bench, fuming.

“I just turned 24.” He begins, brushing a strand of pink hair that’s hanging flat in front of her face to the side. “I have a good amount of sponsors and commissioners in Japan to begin with. Throwing that away would be just as pointless. Besides” He meets her gaze, and his eyes are devoid of any hesitance. “I wouldn’t want to go where you can’t follow.”

A sense of guilt washes over her anger, and she breaks the eye contact to watch the fresh fall of snow.

_ He can’t leave because I’m stuck here. _

“But...didn’t you say yourself how hard these opportunities were to even come by?”

“They’ll come by again.” He huffs. “You’re more important than my paycheck.”

_ A drag. You’re a drag, Sakura.   _

“Why don’t you just break up with me then?” She can’t believe she’s even blurted that out now, but her mouth has always it’s way of getting her into regretful decisions. “That way you don’t have to-” She’s getting teary again. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

Sasori doesn’t seem stunned by her suggestion, however, and the thing’s said faster than her ability to jump into worse confessions. “I believe a proposal would be the complete opposite intention, though.” 

“You can call your manager and- wait-” 

_ Did he just- _

“What?”

Sasori’s answer is just as elegant as her’s. “Uh, yeah. I-” He seems to fumble for words, almost as if he was  _ flustered.  _ “I want to get married. To you.” He tacks on, like she required a clarification.

The snowflakes are uncaring to the deafening silence around them, and several catch in strands of red hair that poke out of his beanie. Sasori’s pretty brown eyes are glued to her, and she’s sure he’s actually waiting for some sort of response.

Sakura’s face feels warm, and she’s sure that she must be looking like a tomato. The tears she’s been holding back, however, flow freely, grazing her chin and ending in her scarf. 

“I hate you so much, right now.” She sniffs, her vision blurring. That’s the _ last  _ thing she expected to happen, god.

Sasori’s regarding her with worry, and his hands freeze in mid-air, unsure if he should grant her comfort or distance; but her tears weren’t rooted in anger, or sadness, not at all. 

“I….I guess if you don’t want to-” 

But before he knows it, Sakura buries her face into the crook of his neck and wraps her arms around his shoulders, her voice coming out muffled. 

“Of course I want to.” 

Arms rest around her torso, and she feels his breath tickling her ear. When she’s calmed her own breathing, he speaks. “Let’s do this properly, then.” 

Sasori moves to stand before her while she blows her nose with a tissue, and when he feels that she’s fully  back on track, he coughs into his hand to get her attention. Her eyes are straining to keep themselves open in the biting cold, but something inside of her cracking and bleeding warmth is making her even more jittery.

Sakura hasn’t been this nervous since entering  _ medical school. _

Slowly, in all his grace, Sasori --  _ the  _ ever so bashful, arrogant, proud Sasori -- lowers his legs until he’s kneeling  front of her, one foot propped on the ground to give him balance in the snow, resembling nothing less but a prince from a distant kingdom wishing to whisk her away in the dead of the night.

He takes her gloved hand with both of his, gently, and she blushes.

“Will you, Sakura Haruno, marry me?” he says, and the words are melodic to her ears -- this was  _ her _ fairytale story.

“A thousand times” She surely must look awful, her makeup smeared and her smile reaching from ear to ear, but there wasn’t anything in this world that would ruin her mood. “Yes.”

He gestures her not to move, fumbling for something in the pockets of his coat, and she patiently waits in anticipation, her hands propped on her knees. He narrows his eyes as he pats around his body impatiently, before realisation finally hits him. He swears quietly, and she’s already knowing what must have happened.

“I... left the ring in the wrong coat, in my Apartment. We have to go back right n-” Sasori is interrupted as Sakura tackles him into the snow, effectively knocking all air out of his lungs. Sakura doesn’t let him collect his bearings as she moves on her own accord, lowering her face until their lips touch.  He hugs her, and they embrace each other, there, in the snow, without a care in the world. It’s not until they run out of air that they part, and she speaks.

“I truly hate you so much, right now.”

There are no fireworks, no grande festival, no masses to share this moment with, but Sasori’s smiling at her, and she wouldn’t trade this view for anything else in this life.

“And I love you, you absolute mess.” 

She laughs, teary, and sweeps in for another kiss.  
  


* * *

 

 

When they’re back on the subway, having caught the last train, Sakura stares at the red string tied around her finger, Sasori’s temporary alternative, said hand intertwined back with Sasori’s and she’s longing to squish the last of her doubts.

“Is this really okay? Not going abroad, I mean.”

“Hey, I surely won’t starve if I were to marry the brilliant future doctor and show-off, Sakura Haruno.” 

“Oh, shush you.” 


End file.
